by Lucy Gillen
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IT was quite late when Isobel left the house the following night and made her way along the gravel drive and past the shrubbery to her cottage. The night was clear and cool after a warm day and the earth smelled loamy rich, tickling her nostrils and blending with the perfume of the late flowering roses that grew on the other side of the shrubbery. A full, fat yellow moon sat in a starless sky and cast long black shadows that danced in front of her all along the drive, her own shadow, tall and lean, leading her silently on. It was a beautiful night and yet she shivered involuntarily as she turned a comer and her elongated, silent other self moved swiftly round to her left as if trying to lure her from the path and into the rustling mass of rhododendrons and berberis. She would, at almost any other time, probably have dismissed her own nervousness as sheer fancy, but all evening she had been edgy, plagued by that elusive feeling that something was going to happen. This time, however, she had said nothing to Nigel about it, thinking it rather unwise after his scornful reception of the same instinct last night. A break in the shrubbery revealed the narrow path leading to her cottage and she breathed a sigh of relief, scolding herself a moment later for being so childishly imaginative. There were times when she viewed with some favour Nigel's wanting her to go back to London with him. At times the atmosphere of this place became almost unbearably overpowering and the full moon merely served to emphasize it. 154 It was ridiculous to believe in witches and witchcraft, or to think that Vanessa Law's Pyewacket was anything but a perfectly ordinary cat, but on nights like this and in this particular setting she could believe almost anything was possible. As Lucifer had so often told her, the success of witchcraft depended largely upon creating the right atmosphere and the right state of mind in the prospective victim, and at the moment both existed for her. The little cottage appeared, small and squat, its square windows winking in the bright moonlight, and she pulled her front door key from her purse as she walked towards it. She had opened the door and switched on the halLlight when something caught her eye. It showed whitely in the long beam of light when she turned to close the door and she paused, the blood pounding heavily against her temple although there was nothing as yet to cause it. How long she stood in the familiar comfort of the hallway looking at it, pale against the rich brown loam beneath the rhododendrons, she had no idea, but she knew she must go and fetch it, whatever it was. It was only feet away and she ventured out at last, across the gravel path and looked down at the grotesque little image at her feet. She bent and picked it up and, almost as quickly dropped it again when the cold clamminess of clay clung to her fingers. 'Idiot!' she whispered scornfully to herself, and once again retrieved the ugly little figure from the ground, turning it over in, her hands, although her instinct was still to throw it as far away as she could and wash her hands to get rid of its clammy coldness. She wondered how long it had lain there unnoticed, and a new kind of fear prickled her scalp, something which she could not yet identify for certain. Surely if it had been there at lunchtime she would have seen it, or yesterday. If it had laid where it did now she 155 would almost certainly have noticed it. Nevertheless she shivered again, looking at it with eyes wide in disbelief. She carried it into the lighted hall and studied it more closely. It was several inches tall and the figure itself was crudely modelled from yellow clay, it was also quite obviously meant to be female. It had a face of sorts and a swathe of blonde hair crowned the hideous features, but it took Isobel only seconds to realize who it was meant to represent. 'Oh no!' she shook her head slowly, a choking panic giving her voice a harsh timbre, and her fingers trembled when they touched the long, sharp pin that stuck up from the arm of the figure. Several long, deep scores ran the whole length of the clay arm and she instinctively put a -.; hand to her own bandaged arm. She stared at the grotesque effigy of herself with wide, blank eyes, her breathing shallow and erratic, as near to pamc as she had ever been m her hie. Sheer hatred have gone into the making of it, and she had no hesitation in allotting the blame to Vanessa Law, for she could think of no one else who hated her enough to indulge in such a vicious and frightening practice. She held the image at arm's length, her mind going swiftly back to Vanessa Law's warning only a few days before. The flat yellow clay face with its crude features and the swathe of blonde liair that hung down over her hand and felt horribly real was, she felt, the outcome of that warning. Her head still throbbed in panic and her heart hammered relentlessly at her ribs, then, before she properly realized what she was doing, she sped from the cottage and ran along the gravel drive as fast as her legs would carry her. She did not even pause to consider why she ran on, past Kanderby House, where Nigel's bedroom light still burned, and on to Lucifer's cottage. Nigel would 156 never understand her fear; Lucifer was the only one who . would both understand and explain. Neither did it occur to her that she was doing exactly what Vanessa Law had warned her against. It was nearly midnight, but a light still burned in the hall of the lodge, and she ran straight up to the front door without hesitating, her breathing short and anguished as she rapped urgently on the solid wood. It was only seconds before the door was opened, although it seemed like an eternity to Isobel, and when he saw her face Lucifer drew her quickly into the hall and closed the door before he uttered a word. 'Lucifer, I-' A strong arm encircled her shoulders. 'Easy now, cara mia, easy.' The quiet soothing voice was already helping to calm her and she strove to control her rapid, noisy breathing as he led her, unprotesting, into a room she had never seen before. His manservant, the liquid-eyed Beppo, looked at her curiously when they came in, but a brief nod from Lucifer dismissed him as she was gently pushed down into an armchair. Lucifer crouched beside her, his black eyes curious but also more gentle and anxious than she had ever seen them. It was when he went to take her hands in his that he saw the effigy she still clutched tightly, and he took it from her unresisting fingers. He frowned over it for a second or two. 'Where did you get this?' he asked quietly. Isobel swallowed hard. 'It - it was lying on the garden opposite my cottage,' she explained as best she could for the small trembly voice that issued from her throat, and he nodded, turning the grotesque little figure round in his hand, then surprisingly he smiled. 'It doesn't do you justice, bella mia.' 'It - it is meant to be me, isn't it?' she asked, and he SsS 157 nodded. 'I should say it's meant to be you,' he agreed calmly with another smile. 'Although I wouldn't have recognized you, to be quite honest.' 'Oh, Lucifer, don't!' she begged. 'Please don't laugh at me.' He shook his head slowly and she realized that his smile was as gentle and understanding as the look in his eyes. 'I'm not laughing at you, piccolo,' he said softly. 'I - I know it's idiotic,' she said, seeking to explain her fears. 'I know it's - it's only superstition and I should have more sense than to take it seriously, but ' She looked at him with her grey eyes already shining with tears and looking as vulnerable as a child's. 'I'm - I'm frightened,' she confessed. There's nothing to be frightened of,' he told her quietly. 'I've explained it all to you before, Isobel.' 'I know. I - I was just being silly, I know that,' she said, half fearing he might lose patience with her. 'Not silly, bambinella,' he argued gently, 'just feminine, and no one minds that, most of all me.' 'YOU didn't - didn't mind my coming here?' He shrugged as he straightened up from beside her and, for a brief moment, the old devilment glittered in his eyes as he looked down at her. 'Why should I mind?' he asked. 'It - it was just that I was so uncertain and - and so frightened.' He nodded, understanding, as she had known he would. "I know,' he said. These things are meant to frighten, piccolo.' 'It's - it's meant to make something happen, isn't it?' she asked, and he nodded. 'But it's all nonsense, of course,' he told her, 'and you're not frightened any more, are you?'^s158 It was so difficult to meet his eyes and not feel childish and silly, so she kept her gaze lowered and deliberately looked again at the clay figure that now looked so much less ominous enclosed in his strong fingers. She shook her head. 'Not - not so much,' she said. 'YOU needed reassurance, is that it, amante?' She nodded. 'And you thought I was the be
st one to come to?' It was obvious what he was carefully avoiding putting into words, and again Isobel nodded realizing for the first time that she had not even given Nigel a thought as she ran past the house. T - I knew you'd understand,' she explained. 'You know about these things, Lucifer.' He looked down at the figure with its long blonde hair and half smiled. 'Yes,' he admitted quietly, 'I know about these things.' He left her side and walked over to sit in another armchair. 'But you knew enough about them to be frightened, didn't you?' 'I know that making an effigy of someone and - and marking it or sticking a pin into it where you want to do harm is supposed to bring that same injury to the person it represents.' She watched how carelessly he held the effigy by one leg, in contrast to her own almost reverent handling of it. He looked down at the thing again and laughed shortly. 'It's meant to harm you,' he agreed grimly, then looked across at her challengingly. 'But mostly it's meant to frighten you - which it did. Ldid warn you what might happen, didn't I, piccolo?' he added softly. That I might get involved in - in this witchcraft thing?' she asked, and he nodded. 'Yes, you did, but I thought it all too far-fetched to be true.' 'And now you know it isn't, hmm?' 'It must have been ' She stopped short, biting her lips, but he knew, as always, what she had been going to say 159 and he smiled wryly as he said it for her. 'Vanessa,' he said bluntly. Isobel looked uneasy. 'I - I couldn't think who else it could be,' she confessed. She looked up then and frowned for a moment. 'She hates me,' she told him, 'although I've never given her reason to.' He smiled wryly, gazing at her with that slow, dark look that played havoc with her self-control. 'You're very young and very beautiful,' he said softly, 'that's reason enough. Especially to a woman like Vanessa, who isn't over fond of her own sex anyway.' 'But she has no need,' Isobel insisted, and stopped when he shook his head slowly. 'It's possibly my fault, Isobel, and I'm sorry.' 'You're ' She stared at him unbelievingly, both the admission and the apology taking her by surprise. T shouldn't have ' Expressive hands lent meaning to the unspoken words and for a moment he seemed wholly Latin and much more dangerous. 'I should have realized how young you were and how very, very vulnerable. It was selfish of me.' 'Lucifer ' He raised a hand to silence her, a trace of the old uncaring insolence in his smile. 'I should leave the bambini to Nigel and stay in my own league,' he told her, 'please see that I do in future, will you? Then Vanessa will leave you alone.' She was sufficiently recovered from her fright to translate and resent his reference to her as a baby and she flushed, lifting her chin, her eyes no longer tearful. 'You don't need to keep referring to me as a - a baby,' she told him, 'and even if I was as old as the hills, Mrs. Law has nothing to fear from me in the way you're implying, as I've already told her.' 'Have you?' His eyes glowed like coals in the yellow s6o light, and Isobel resented what she suspected was admiration of childish pluck in defying the grown-ups. 'No wonder Vanessa made your effigy,' he added, and laughed. 'I saw her on Sunday morning with ' She stopped short of actually betraying the confidence she had accidentally been admitted to, and lowered her eyes hastily before the compelling gaze opposite. 'Gal Ford?' he guessed, and laughed again, while Isobel stared at him wide-eyed. 7 didn't tell you,' she said, suddenly wary. 'I know you didn't.' He grinned knowingly. 'And I'll make,sure Vanessa knows it wasn't you. You don't want any more dollies on your doorstep, do you?' Isobel shook her head, reminded of the obscenely grotesque warning again. 'I - I still don't see how she knew about my arm being scratched,' -she said slowly. 'It couldn't have - she couldn't have ' She could not go on with the idiotic suspicion that the effigy had been made before the cat's attack on her, but she looked at him appealingly, begging him to confirm that it was idiotic. The arm of that - that thing is marked in exactly the same way as her cat marked my arm,' she said. He shook his head, holding the effigy where she could see it more plainly. 'Not quite exactly,' he told her quietly. There's a significant difference, hadn't you noticed?' She stared at it for a moment, her hand on her own injured arm, then her eyes widened, 'Of course,' she said. 'It's - it's the left arm on there and mine's my right. I didn't notice that.' She shook her head. 'Just the same, Lucifer, it's a coincidence. How did she know about my arm?' 'Because t told her.' She blinked at the blunt statement, and he smiled. 'I warned her about keeping Pyewacket i-pw-r l^1 away from here, since she seems to have taken a dislike to you.' 'Oh, I see.' 'I told her you'd been badly scratched, but I didn't say which arm, she obviously took a chance and, guessed wrongly, so you see she's not much of a witch, is she?' 'No, no, I suppose she isn't.' She hesitated, cautious in case he laughed at her. 'But it would have been different if the - the doll had been there before yesterday morning, wouldn't it?' Tt would,' he agreed solemnly, 'but it wasn't.' He pulled the pin out of'the clay arm and Isobel winced. She looked down at her hands, silent for a moment, then she raised her eyes and met-the black gaze as steadily as she was able. 'It's - it's rather frightening when someone hates you so much they'll resort to that,' she said, indicating the effigy with a nod of her head. 'Yes, I can imagine it must be.' He smiled at her. 'But now it's all been explained,' he said, 'and you know there's absolutely nothing to be frightened of, don't you?' She nodded. 'Yes, thank you. I - I'm sorry I came over here and behaved like a silly child, I shouldn't have been so selfish and troubled you at this time of night.' 'Please!' He held up a protesting hand, and smiled. ''You've been no trouble. I hadn't even thought of going to bed yet, -although it's time I did think.' He stood up and smiled down at her. 'But first I'll take you home and see you safely in.' 'Oh no!' Isobel protested. T wouldn't dream of letting you come out again tonight, I've been enough trouble and it's only a few yards. I'm quite over my heebie-jeebies now.' 'Nevertheless,' he insisted, putting a hand under her elbow, T shall take you home. Come along.' f She went, without further argument, partly because 163 she thought that the garden with its shadows and whispering shrubs would be less disturbing if Lucifer was with her and partly she admitted, because she wanted him to come with her purely and simply for the pleasure of his company. The latter was something she recognized with some surprise and she wondered what Nigel would have said if he had known only a fraction of what had happened after she left him tonight. The moon still shone, fatly yellow, in the sky, only now it had, so it seemed to Isobel, a more benevolent look, and their two shadows fell together across the gravel drive, intimately close, in silent company. 'It's a lovely night,' Lucifer said, and she nodded. Tt is really,' she allowed, 'although I didn't think so earlier on when I was coming back from the house.' 'YOU were nervous?' Isobel nodded, and laughed, half ashamed to confess to such weakness. T - I had a strange feeling that something was going to happen,' she admitted, 'like I did last night.' 'Oh, I see.' The black eyes gleamed down at her in the moonlight. 'You already had the heebie-jeebies before you found Vanessa's little toy?' 'In a way I suppose I had,' she said. 'Although I didn't say anything to Ni She stopped just short of making Nigel seem unsympathetic, but she should have known that he would see through anything as simple as that. 'Nigel doesn't believe in feelings,' he guessed. 'I know, he's strictly practical, that brother of mine, and it can give the quite wrong impression that he's'insensitive.' 'Oh, I know he isn't that,' Isobel hastened to assure him. 'But he laughed at my fears last night, so I decided to keep quiet tonight.' 'Wise girl.' She thought he looked a little disapproving as near as she could tell in the shifting shadows cast by the 163 moon. 'Doesn't he feel up to bringing you home yet?' he asked. 'He could manage that far, surely.' 'I suppose he could,' Isobel agreed, 'but I wouldn't let him. It isn't necessary for such a short distance.' His laugh sounded deep and soft and it vibrated against her where he held her close to his side. 'He doesn't use his imagination, that lad,' he said. 'I'd have thought a moonlight walk home in a setting like this was worth it, however short the distance.' Isobel smiled, despite the implied criticism of Nigel. 'Nigel doesn't need an imagination,' she told him. 'As you said, he's strictly a practical man.' 'And you don't mind?' 'I'm used to it.' She had answered without thinking and she heard him'laugh again. That, if
I may say so,' he informed her, 'doesn't sound very complimentary.' 'I didn't mean it to be complimentary or anything else other than a statement of fact,' she said. 'Nigel is a practical man and none the worse for it, I expect.' The cottage stood before them, cosy and reassuring, and she released her arm from his hold. 'Your little grey home in the west,' he quoted. 'And no more spooky little dollies around as far as I can see.' She realized for the first time that she had left the cottage door open when she ran out to him, and she smiled ruefully. They'd have had free access if there was,' she said, and turned to face him. Thank you, Lucifer.' He looked through the narrow opening into the lighted hall. 'Shall I make sure Pyewacket hasn't decided to pay you another visit?' he asked. 'As your door's been open.' Isobel shook her head, shining gold in the light from the hall. 'She won't be here again at night, I shouldn't think,' she told him. 'Nigel says she doesn't usually go out 164 at night.' That's true.' He grinned at her wickedly. 'And I must remember to stay in my own league, as I said earlier. No tricks to gain access to your maiden bower.' He pushed the door wide for her and smiled down at her, his dark face very hard -to read in the shadowy moonlight, even with the yellow light from the hall shining on one side of his face. Only his eyes glowed deeply and sent a brief, tingling shiver down her spine. 'Goodnight, piccolo, sleep tight.' She had half expected him to kiss her, however briefly, and when he didn't even attempt to she felt a swift twinge of disappointment. 'Goodnight, Lucifer,' she said, 'and thank you again.' She tiptoed and brushed her lips lightly . against his chin. 'Goodnight.' He looked at her for a breathless second or two in silence, then his arms swept her against him, so tightly she could hear and feel the strong steady beat of his heart, and her own pulses racing wildly when his mouth closed on hers and held her for so long that she felt it would never end. 'You make it very difficult for me to remember my vows,' he whispered against her ear, while she clung to him tightly, her cheeks burning and a warm glow all over her body. 'NOW be a good little girl and go into your dear little house before I forget what a baby you are.' Isobel raised her head from his chest, her eyes huge and bright in the light, so lighthearted it seemed to affect her head and she laughed softly. 'Si, papa,' she said demurely, and ran through the door quickly and closed it before he could voice his objections. She leaned against it for a second or two listening to the soft sound of his laughter as he walked away. 165
